Monsieur de Fréchêdé in his turn takes up the argument, and asks him, in my favor, to give me a convalescent’s leave of absence for two months. “Monsieur is, in fact, sick enough,” says the doctor, “to be entitled to two months’ rest; if my colleagues and if the General look at it as I do your protégé will be able in a few days to return to Paris.” “That’s good,” replies Monsieur de Fréchêdé. “I thank you, doctor; I will speak to the General myself to-night.” We are in the street; I heave a great sigh of relief; I press the hand of that excellent man who shows so kindly an interest in me. I run to find Francis again. We have but just time to get back; we arrive at the gate of the hospital; Francis rings; I salute the sister. She stops me: “Did you not tell me this morning that you were going to the commissariat?” “Quite right, sister.” “Very well! the General has just left here. Go and see the director and Sister Angèle; they are waiting for you; you will explain to them, no doubt, the object of your visits to the commissariat.” We remount, all crestfallen, the dormitory stairs. Sister Angèle is there, who waits for us, and who says: “Never could I have believed such a thing! You have been all over the city, yesterday and to-day, and Heaven knows what kind of life you have been leading!” “Oh, really!” I exclaim. She looked at me so fixedly that I breathed not another word. “All the same,” she continued, “the General himself met you on the Grand Square to-day. I denied that you had gone out, and I searched for you all over the hospital. The General was right, you were not here. He asked me for your names; I gave him the name of one of you, I refused to reveal the other, and I did wrong, that is certain, for you do not deserve it!” “Oh, how much I thank you, my sister!” But Sister Angèle did not listen to me. She was indignant over my conduct! There was but one thing to do; keep quiet and accept the downpour without trying to shelter myself. In the mean time Francis was summoned before the director, and since, I do not know why, they suspected him of corrupting me; and since he was, moreover, by reason of his foolery, in bad odor with the doctor and the sisters, he was informed that he must leave the hospital the following day and join his corps at once. “Those huzzies with whom we dined yesterday are licensed women, who have sold us; it was the director himself who told me,” he declared furiously. All the time we are cursing the jades and lamenting over our uniforms which made us so recognizable, the rumor runs that the Emperor is taken prisoner and that the Republic has been proclaimed at Paris; I give a franc to an old man who was allowed to go out and who brings me a copy of the “Gaulois.” The news is true. The hospital exults, Badinguet fallen! it is not too soon; good-by to the war that is ended at last.